The Odds Are In
by seventhe
Summary: Squall sends Quistis and Irvine to Esthar on an unusual mission request. Will they end up facing down the terrorists they suspect are behind Esthar's political instability? Or is Laguna paying millions of gil for two very skilled Triple Triad partners?
1. Chapter 1: He's The Only One

**Summary**: Squall sends Quistis and Irvine on a mission to Esthar, in the midst of political (and familial) unrest. Will they end up facing down the terrorists they suspect are behind Esthar's current political uprisings? Or is Laguna paying millions of gil for two very skilled Triple Triad partners?

**Notes: **This is a total piece of comfort-writing, after the hellish fuckjob that March has been. Somewhat inspired by the shenanigans at the LunaticDiscord RP, but also a chance for me to get caught up on Get Your Words Out.

**Additional Notes:** I don't believe I'm coming back to Fanfiction Dot Net just to post _this._

**The Odds Are In **will be a series of connected ficlets / scenes / vignettes / pieces. Some will have plot, some will just be scenes. This month's goal: WORDS.

**Accompanying lyrics** and **butchered title** are taken from / inspired by (respectively) the song _Dance Commander_ by Electric Six. In retrospect this is fairly embarrassing to admit.

-

_you must obey the dance commander you know that / he's the only one _

-

Quistis sat down beside Irvine, throwing a somewhat worried glance his way: _do you know what this is about?_ Irvine gave a very small shrug, as if to say no, and they both turned back to look across the paper-strewn desk at the folder Squall was hidden behind. The folder itself seemed nondescript and plain, which was surprising what with the urgency they'd both been summoned to the Commander's office.

Eventually the folder was lowered. The look on Squall's face was surprisingly grim and blank; worry started to build in Quistis' gut. She tried to sneak a glance at the files inside the folder, but Squall snapped it shut with finality --and to her surprise, handed it to her.

"President Loire of Esthar has commissioned your services," Squall said.

There was a long-ish pause, and then: "Laguna?" Quistis asked, just as Irvine blurted out, "Your old man?"

Squall's lips tightened, almost imperceptibly, but Quistis was an excellent reader of Squall's stoic moods and caught the warning sign. "The mission request comes from the Presidential Office of Esthar," he clarified, making particular emphasis on the words.

"So, from Kiros and Ward." Irvine nodded in understanding.

"No." Squall glanced down at the paper, and Quistis saw his lips twitch again. "The message is specifically from the President himself. He... made that very clear."

"What do you mean?" Irvine asked, leaning forward. Squall blinked, and the lines around his mouth grew tighter.

"What's the mission?" Quistis asked hastily, hoping to defer the explosion. "Your page sounded important. Is it urgent?"

Squall opened another folder slowly. "Urgent enough to require advance payment," he said, handing a receipt her way. Quistis glanced down, and then took a second look - was that their fee? She hadn't seen that many zeroes in a row since Seifer's last report card.

"Sir?" Quistis handed the receipt sheet back to Squall. "What exactly is going on?"

"The President," Squall said, distinctly emphasizing the title, "has found himself in a tight spot." He shuffled through his own folder, which Quistis was beginning to suspect was a more in-depth copy of the folder she was holding. "Esthar is on the brink of a civil war," Squall said.

"Yeah, we know." Irvine leaned back in his chair, looking bored. "It's been all over the news."

Squall nodded. "They are more on the brink than the news is showing. Last week, there were two attempts to remove the President from office, and one additional attempt to overtake the Presidential Palace."

Quistis blinked. "I've heard nothing about this," she said, slowly.

"And you won't," Squall replied. He rested his hands on the table, looking idly at the papers beneath them. "Esthar is trying to keep the peace. They don't want to let the people know that the unrest has gone that far."

"Woah." Irvine shook his head. "That can't be good."

Squall raised an eyebrow at Irvine's understatement. "It isn't," he said, letting the confirmation hang in the air over his desk.

Quistis shifted in her chair, uncomfortable at the silence. "So what is the mission, then?"

Squall glanced at the folder in her hand, his expression clearly saying _read it yourself,_ but Quistis simply stared back at him, deliberately leaving the folder closed; whatever Squall wasn't saying made her nervous, and she was going to make him say it aloud before she was going anywhere.

Finally, Squall sighed. "It's... complicated," he said.

"With Laguna?" Irvine muttered. "You expected otherwise?"

Quistis primly set the folder down on her lap. "Please explain, sir."

"Missions inside missions." Squall made a small hand gesture of frustration. "Your first assignment is officially from the Presidential Office of Esthar. You are publicly assigned as acting bodyguards to the President, and charged with the safety of his person and of the Presidential Palace, in that order. The assignment will last until the President's safety and well-being are no longer in danger, and the Presidential Office is willing to pay a monthly fee for your services until such a time."

"Who decides when that is?" Irvine murmured. "I like Laguna, but..."

Squall ignored him. "Within that assignment is a second mission. During your tenure as President Loire's bodyguards, you will investigate certain political groups which the President suspects are funding terrorist attacks. If proof is found, you will call in a secondary SeeD team, who will eliminate these threats under your direction."

"Wait," Quistis said, carefully. "I thought SeeD wasn't going to get involved in the political side of things as much, now." Squall had been very careful in the past few months to keep SeeD completely separate from any of the political uproar which had swept their world in the aftermath of Time Compression.

Squall drummed fingers on folders, absently. "This isn't political," he replied, after a moment's thought. "Terrorist groups are a danger to Estharian civilians, no matter which side they may hail from politically. We risk nothing contracting ourselves to the President's Office in this manner, as long as we implement our teams without regard to political philosophy."

Irvine and Quistis glanced at each other. Finally Irvine said, "What?"

Squall let out his breath in a rush of annoyance. "The President thinks that someone in Esthar is gathering material for a dirty bomb," he said flatly, "and using the leftovers from the Lunar Cry as a cover story for their break-ins and attacks. It's in the folder, Quistis," he added with just a hint of annoyance.

"Then I'll make sure to read up on the details before we go," she retorted, primly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, not bothered at all. "What else do we need to know?"

"Well." Squall glanced between the two of them, threw another pointed look at the folder in Quistis' lap, and then sighed, leaning back in his chair and rubbing his temples. "There's a second mission -- well, third, really. A private mission, tacked on separate from the other two, and paid for separately as well." His eyes closed for a moment. "If things go... if things get bad in Esthar, the two of you are responsible for getting the Loire family safely out of Esthar and back to Balamb where they can claim political asylum."

Quistis blinked. Beside her, Irvine leaned forward. "Loire family?" he blurted out. "Laguna's got more kids?"

Squall buried his face in his hand for a moment, and then looked up, his expression carefully bland. "Your two charges are Laguna and Ellone Loire."

"Oh, Elle!" Irvine's face brightened. "That's right, she's in Esthar now. Laguna's... whatever-y person."

"Ambassador," Quistis said, trying not to laugh at the look on Squall's face. "Ambassador of Magic." They'd all had a good, private laugh over the title -- behind Squall's back, of course, because Squall hadn't found it amusing. But even Rinoa had giggled a bit, and Rinoa was one of the few people Ellone was supposed to be acting as an Ambassador to.

"Chancellor," Squall corrected her, with a perfectly straight face. "The position's title has been changed."

"It's about time." Irvine chuckled. "Poor Ellone must have been goin' nuts figuring out how to be an Ambassador to--"

Squall cleared his throat. "This last mission," he said loudly over the end of Irvine's comment, "will only take effect in case of emergency." Irvine's mouth snapped shut at the serious tone in Squall's voice, and he glanced upwards. "President Loire has paid extra for the privilege of employer's choice," Squall continued softly. "You will both be bound by this extra clause if he chooses to invoke it."

"What determines a state of emergency?" Quistis asked. "Will it be up to--?"

Squall blinked and looked away, and Quistis stopped talking at the strange flush which appeared on his face. "Because he has invoked employer's choice," Squall said woodenly, "President Loire will decide what qualifies as a state of emergency. If he at any point says... the code phrase included in your briefing files, your priorities are expected to immediately switch, to getting the Loire family out of Esthar safely. No matter the cost."

Quistis sat back, pensive; things like this happened occasionally, and it must be much worse in Esthar than she'd thought for Squall and Laguna to have made such an arrangement. Irvine, incorrigible, leaned forward with a smirk on his face. "What's the password, then?"

Squall glanced down at the closed folders in his desk. Reluctantly, he said, "President Loire has chosen the code phrase 'Operation Moomba Parade'."

Irvine snickered, and Quistis glanced up with a smile she couldn't quite help. Squall's face was still blank. "I am not sure whether President Loire understands the seriousness of an employer's choice clause," he said nastily.

"At least it's not a common phrase he might say accidentally," Quistis offered.

"Are you sure?" Irvine asked her under his breath.

Squall stood up, with an air of finality. "The rest of the details are included in your briefing folder. Quistis, you'll be squad leader." ("Squad of _two?_" Irvine mumbled.) "If you have any questions, make sure you see me this afternoon. There are two tickets to Esthar reserved in your names for tomorrow morning."

Quistis glanced at the folder and then back up; she longed to ask more questions, but the look on Squall's face said he'd had quite enough about Laguna and Esthar for one day. "Yes, sir," she said instead, standing up. "Irvine, shall we go take a look at our assignment in my dorm?"

"I'd love to," Irvine said with a grin and a wink, following her out.


	2. Chapter 2: Get This Party Started Right

- - -

_let's get this party started right y'all / let's get this party started right _

- - -

The newly-rebuilt train line between Timber and Esthar (via Fisherman's Horizon) clicked away beneath Quistis and Irvine with a comforting background _hum_ as they sat in the SeeD car, passing time. Irvine lay across one of the couches, his legs across the cushions as he stared out the window. Quistis sat in the corner, flipping through the folder they'd both read a dozen times the day before and tapping a pen against the page in obvious thought.

"Finding anything new?" Irvine asked, stretching his legs. "Secret decoder ring message in there somewhere? Love notes hidden between the lines?"

Quistis turned a page over, studying the footnotes on the back briefly. "Nothing new," she said. "I'm just making sure I... understand it all."

Irvine shrugged. "It didn't seem all that complicated."

"It's not," Quistis replied. She pulled out the page of footnotes and flipped forward a few, setting it back down next to a new page for comparison; her eyes flicked between the two. "That's what has me worried."

"Worried?" Irvine sat up. "You think something's wrong, Quisty?"

"Mmm." Her lips pursed. She glanced up from the report, giving Irvine a reassuring look. "I don't think anything's wrong, per se. It's just that the wording of the contract is a bit unusual, especially for Squall."

"Really?" Irvine chuckled. "It's almost curt it's so... _brief._ Sounds like our Commander in a big fat nutshell, to me."

Quistis shook her head, turning her gaze back down to the papers. "Ever since the Timber mission contract came to light, Squall has been really careful about how he commits his resources. He's actually quite skilled at writing the contracts -- much better than Headmaster Cid. Squall makes sure all the loopholes are tightly closed. He gets rid of any vagueness."

Irvine frowned. "But the Timber mission was alright. That was us and Rinoa. It all ended well, right?"

"The Timber mission worked out well _because_ it was us and Rinoa," Quistis pointed out. "And that's what Squall realized in the end: another team couldn't and wouldn't have done what we did. So now, he tries to protect his teams by making sure contracts have distinct beginnings and ends."

Irvine sat back, clearly thinking about Timber. Rinoa -- much to everyone's surprise -- had invoked the clause of her contract which assigned her a SeeD team in Timber until independence was declared, and had made it clear despite her charming smile (and her budding relationship with Squall) that she meant to hold Balamb Garden to it. Squall, also to everyone's surprise, had agreed, but had reanalyzed the contract in an almost vicious way which turned it to Balamb Garden's benefit as well. By the end of their meeting, the Timber Team had been redefined and reforged, designed to cycle SeeD candidates through as an almost-ongoing field exam.

When Rinoa had craftily requested actual support from SeeD, not just cadets and trainees, Squall had nominated Seifer (granted a retroactive SeeD title by Squall right after the conflict had ended, in a move that surprised everyone but the few who knew Squall was more interested in keeping tabs on Seifer than bringing him to justice) as the Timber Team squad leader. The move had surprised Rinoa so much, she'd agreed to it just to spite Squall.

"Anyway," Quistis continued, interrupting Irvine's thoughts. "This contract with Laguna reads much like the original Timber contract did. It's quite... vague." She held up a sheet, and Irvine realized that what he had thought was idle pen-tapping had actually been Quistis' note-taking habits. "I've marked a couple places that could, actually, be used against us as loopholes."

"Woah, woah." Irvine crossed the railcar and sat down next to Quistis. "Loopholes in our contract? Are you serious?"

"It isn't--" Quistis shook her head. "It's nothing to worry about. To be able to spot this kind of thing, you'd have to be familiar with the SeeD manual at a level I _know_ Laguna isn't. I'm just..." She trailed off, flipping to another sheet, also marked with her neat capitals.

Irvine glanced at it, and then back up at her. "Whatcha thinking, Quisty?"

Quistis sighed. "Squall wrote up this contract. Squall doesn't like dealing with his -- with Laguna." She paused. "And yet Squall left all sorts of windows in our mission description."

"What if he just wasn't thinking about it?" Irvine asked. "If he doesn't like talking to Laguna, he might have agreed to anything to get off the phone."

"Squall?" Quistis snorted. "I bet he was never on the phone in the first place."

"True." Irvine reached over and picked up the page Quistis had been staring at, a list of dependent clauses. Half of Quistis' notes were in some sort of legal shorthand he had no desire to ever learn; he hastily placed the sheet back into the folder on her lap. "Alright, then, what?"

"I think--" Quistis began, and then stopped, pursing her lips in thought. "This is just conjecture, Irvine."

"Of course," he agreed.

Quistis slowly closed the folder on her lap. "I think Squall's worried." She let her fingers drag across the smooth manila surface. "More worried than he's letting on. Of course he doesn't want to admit it, because it's Laguna. But I think he deliberately left the wording on this assignment open to interpretation... his own interpretation."

"_Squall's_ gonna use the loopholes." Irvine whistled.

"I don't know," Quistis corrected him. "They may never come into play. It might just be the kind of contract Squall wanted to send out, this time. We have no way of knowing. But I think Squall is... giving himself, and us, a -- a window. In case things change once we're in Esthar, or in case something bad happens."

Irvine reached for the folder, and Quistis handed it to him, her expression quizzical. "Isn't that backup mission already a sort of safety net, though?" he asked, opening the folder and flipping through to the page containing that last private independent clause. "The one about Laguna and Elle. Operation Moomba Birthday Party, or whatever. Isn't that enough to ensure their safety?"

Quistis sighed, and leaned back against the padded couch. "I have no idea," she said, pressing her fingers to her brow in thought. "Maybe I'm just reading too much into it."

"You're the squad leader," Irvine pointed out, trying to read through the shorthand notes alongside the Moomba Parade clauses. "It's your job, ain't it?"

She shrugged. "I'd certainly consider any thoughts you had to offer," she said with a smirk, "if you had any."

Irvine grinned up at her. "Hey, I thought backup didn't have to think. I'm just here to look good, right?"

"Oh, quit it." Her smirk grew into a smile. "Don't sell yourself short, Irvine. I -- just don't."

He peered at her over the folder. "Hmm. Is that a compliment I sense? Don't stop there, Quistis dear. Do continue."

"I said nothing of the sort," she retorted, but her face was blushing and she was already laughing, despite her best efforts. "Oh, shut up, Irvine."

He closed the folder and handed it back to her, happy to have broken up the seriousness of the situation for a moment. "You're just glad to have me as your backup," he teased. "Or maybe you're sorry to be squad leader, cause you wanted to spend all your time watchin' _my_ ass. I mean back."

"Well--" Quistis began, and then flushed red at Irvine's hoot. "That is not what I meant," she said primly, tucking her hair behind her ears in an automatic gesture. "I was going to say something nice about working with you, but if this is the kind of harassment I have to put up with, I don't think I will."

"Ooh, harassment." Irvine waggled his eyebrows. "Tell me more, Instructor."

She rolled her eyes instead, still laughing a little. "Sorry. The moment has passed."

He leaned closer, saying in a deep melodramatic voice, "There can always be another moment, my lady."

Quistis swatted him with the folder. Irvine leaned back, laughing, resting his head on the back of the couch. He closed his eyes. Beside him, he heard the tell-tale rustle of paper which meant Quistis had opened the file yet again, to peruse and analyze and cover with tiny little intelligent notes.

"Don't worry about it, Quisty," he said finally, opening his eyes to stare at the ceiling of the rail car. "I'm sure it's alright. You'll only make it worse if you worry."

"I'm not really worried." She glanced up at him with a quick smile. "You and I make a good team; we'll be able to handle whatever comes up. I really just want to know what we're getting into before..."

"Before we're knee-deep in it?" Irvine offered with a chuckle.

"Yes," Quistis said, sighing. "Exactly."

A clear tone rang through the car. _"Fisherman's Horizon stop approaching,"_ the loudspeaker announced in a cool, clear voice.

Irvine stretched. "You wanna get off at FH for a bit? We've got some time while they do the transfer."

Quistis snapped the folder shut and tucked it into the outside pocket of her shoulder bag. "Let's go grab a snack," she said.

--

_Please leave a review!_


	3. Chapter 3: Radio Message From HQ

- - -

_radio message from hq / dance commander, we love you_

- - -

She spotted Laguna out of the window before the train even came to a complete stop: he was hard to miss, fidgeting like he was, shaking the knots and cramps out of his legs with the world's strangest-looking dance. He was holding--

"Are those flowers?" Irvine murmured, next to her. "Quistis, are you having a sordid affair with Squall's dad?"

Quistis shrugged. "For all I know, Irvine, those flowers are for you."

Irvine batted his lashes. "I did call ahead and tell him to make reservations."

Quistis gave a half-hearted laugh, but said nothing. Had Laguna actually come to the station _alone?_ The man was going to get himself assassinated before she and Irvine even got off the train. No wonder Squall was so concerned about this --no, wait, there; back behind the crowd stood a few men in a uniform she recognized from the Palace. They were a little too far away for her tastes, but Quistis was relieved to see Laguna had come with _some_ sort of protection.

She and Irvine gathered their duffels and disembarked. Laguna's face lit up in a grin when he saw them -- but then fell, disappointed, as he scanned the crowd behind them. Then he smiled again, a somewhat determined grin, and headed across the platform to greet them with a handshake.

"Mister President," Quistis said with a nod. She couldn't help but ask: "Are you looking for someone else?"

Laguna sighed, and shook his head. "I guess he didn't come, did he? Squall. I asked for him specifically."

Quistis and Irvine exchanged a curious glance. That hadn't been mentioned in any of the paperwork they'd studied on the way here. "I'm sorry," Quistis said. "Squall doesn't go on missions much, anymore."

"I know." Laguna's shoulders sagged momentarily. "That's why I asked for him to come. I said I'd pay extra, and in advance -- I was hoping it would be like a vacation, or something..."

Quistis drew herself upright. "With all due respect, sir," she said carefully, "we're here for a mission, not a vacation."

"Oh, I know," Laguna said, nodding in complete understanding. "I was just hoping he'd come... too."

The look Irvine gave Quistis was one part confused and one part amused. "Well, hey, let's get going," Irvine offered. "And you can tell us about this mission."

"Right!" Laguna brightened. "A debriefing!" He grinned, and reached for Quistis' duffel bag. A small scuffle ensued as Quistis tightened her grip on the bag, insisting she was perfectly capable of carrying it. Laguna tugged. Quistis relented.

They made their way out of the train station to the funny-looking transport marked with the President's seal. Laguna tossed their bags into the back (Quistis winced) and crawled into the transport eagerly, waving them in. Irvine had to duck as he entered.

"They've already cleaned off the track," Laguna said as they settled in for the ride. He set the flowers down beside him. "We should get there without any problems."

"Cleaned?" Quistis asked. "Problems?"

"Lunar Cry monsters are still here." Laguna shrugged, watching out the window. "We're still working on cleaning out the city. There's a curfew in effect, you'll see, and most of the stores have rent-a-guards when they're open." He shrugged again. "It's not that bad. Sometimes I can get out of the Palace and actually fight a few."

Irvine chuckled at the somewhat horrified look which momentarily crossed Quistis' face. "You realize if you go now, you'll have to take one of us, right?"

"Hey, that would be awesome!" Laguna turned back from the window, grinning. "We could go kick some monster ass!"

Irvine saw the horrified look flicker across Quistis' face again and said, hastily, "Maybe after some of this other stuff dies down."

"But you could help us!" Laguna said. "We could finally get the Cry out of the city for sure!"

"Laguna," Quistis began, her voice deliberately calm, "there's nothing about the Lunar Cry monsters in our mission statement." She paused, a strange thought occuring to her. "Have you seen the contract yet?"

Laguna waved his hand airily. "I know what it says. You guys just have to keep me safe. It's alright," he added, "the monsters aren't all that hard to beat up."

"That isn't the point," Quistis said, resisting the urge to rub her temples in frustration. "We're supposed to lower the danger of your current situation, not raise it."

Laguna frowned, looking confused. "Nobody's going to attack me if I'm surrounded by SeeD _and_ Lunar Cry monsters," he pointed out. He fidgeted a little, picking up the flowers and then setting them back down.

"The monsters will." Quistis held back a sigh. "Laguna, I'm sorry, but throwing you into the middle of a battle is _not_, in fact, the best way to ensure your safety."

"It's alright," Irvine offered helpfully. "We're not _that_ boring."

The car pulled up in front of the Presidential Palace. Laguna jumped out and grabbed Quistis' duffel (leaving the second bag for Irvine) and headed inside; Quistis and Irvine followed. In the lobby, a man in uniform was waiting with a luggage cart.

"Here," Laguna said cheerfully, handing over Quistis' duffel and gesturing to Irvine. "Go ahead and take it up to the room. You guys, come with me. It's debriefing time!"

They followed Laguna through a maze of hallways -- Quistis made a mental note to memorize the layout of this place as soon as possible -- and up a staircase, into a small room. Laguna opened the door with a flourish, holding out the flowers nobly.

"Laguna," Kiros said, a weary tone in his voice, "thanks but no thanks."

"Hey!" Laguna jerked the flowers back to his chest. "These aren't for you! Where is she?"

"I'm in here, Uncle Laguna." Ellone's soft, familiar voice. "Did you find them?"

Laguna jumped into the room, holding the flowers out in front of him almost like a weapon. "Elle! These are for you! Quistis and Irvine are here, and we're ready to start!"

Bemusedly, Quistis and Irvine entered the room, nodding a polite hello to Kiros and Ward, who stood by the door. Inside the room was a long table, covered with dishes full of food and snacks. At the end of the table, Ellone stood up, coming forward to give them both a brief hug.

"It's good to see you," she said. "I'm glad you could come."

Quistis and Irvine exchanged another funny look. Was this a vacation or a mission?

"Help yourselves," Laguna said, beaming. "I ordered all kinds of stuff. You can have it all!"

"We'll be eating all day," Irvine murmured, and Quistis bit back a snort. They both diligently took a plate, and made their selections from the buffet in front of them. Irvine took a seat next to Ellone, and Quistis sat to his left. As they sat, Laguna stood.

He gestured at Kiros, who took a small remote control out of his pocket and pressed a button. A projector descended from the ceiling, and the lights dimmed as it lowered. Kiros pressed another button, and the projector focused on the opposite wall; a map of the Presidential Palace appeared.

"I figured we could just talk while you eat," Laguna said. "That okay?"

Quistis nodded; Irvine swallowed, and said rather stickily, "Fine with me."

"Alright!" Laguna threw himself into a chair. "So this is the Palace. That big green room there is where I sleep. Across from it, see that thing in blue?, that's the guest suite. We're gonna have you two stay in there." He glanced at Kiros, who pressed a button on his remote. A series of bright yellow markers appeared on the map.

Laguna paused, frowning slightly. "Kiros," he said, "Where's the -- the thingey?" He held out a fist, waggling his thumb up and down and moving his hand in a lopsided circle. Quistis and Irvine watched this odd pantomime curiously; Kiros simply sighed.

"Your laser pointer," Kiros said patiently, "has been missing for a week."

Ward reached into the pocket of his shirt and took something out, handing it to Laguna, who took it eagerly and broke out in a grin. It was shaped like a pen, and when Laguna pointed it at the screen, a tiny blue dot appeared, wiggling on the wall as Laguna tried to write his name.

"Oh, Uncle Laguna," Ellone said, sounding embarrassed. "You gave me your laser pointer a week ago. You told me it was a toy for Griever!"

Laguna flushed. "He liked chasing it so much," he mumbled.

Kiros pulled a small handheld out of his own pocket and touched it in a few places, carefully. He sighed. "And thus we solve the mystery of the stolen laser pointer. Let's continue, Laguna."

"Right!" said the President. He pointed out three of the yellow spots with the laser, moving in a triangle between the three. "Those circles are places where we caught trespassers. Since we caught 'em before they got too far, we can't necessarily say that they were sneaking in for some kind of ninja assassin attack, or if it was just kids on a dare." Kiros' low snort let both Quistis and Irvine know which theory _he_ favored. "But you'll notice how far away they are from each other. Looking back, I think people were _scouting_ our _perimeter!_" He sounded so excited. Kiros looked pained.

"And this one," Laguna said, circling a yellow spot directly over the front entrance, "is where they tried to _storm_ the _castle._ Check this out." He looked pointedly at Kiros, who pressed a the button on the remote again. The main yellow spot turned bright orange, and a series of smaller orange markers appeared on the map. Quistis quickly realized they were marking windows, doors, emergency exits...

"A siege," she said softly.

"Yeah!" The blue laser flew around the map as Laguna gestured hastily at the orange markers. "We went back and checked the video feeds. There were people everywhere! Little itty bitty teams, waiting at every window and every door." He sent the blue dot back to the first marker at the front door, circling it a few times for emphasis. "Luckily for us, we have guards and alarms at the door. When we fought them off, somebody must have signaled for a retreat, cause all the people just left all of a sudden."

Laguna nodded, and Kiros advanced the slide again. All of the markers on the map disappeared except for three yellow dots. Two were in Laguna's room; the third was just down the hall.

"Those are where people tried to shoot me," Laguna said; his voice now sounded forcibly cheerful. The laser pointed at a spot in his room. "The first one, they threw some crap through the window. It scared the shit out of me, but that was a good thing, because it woke me up fast enough to run. The second time, I was writing a letter, and somebody tried to snipe me." He paused, letting the laser sag as his face grew carefully blank. "The guards caught that one in time, thankfully."

The mood in the room grew even more tense as he pointed to the last one. "That's Ellie's room. I guess we don't even know whether they were aiming for her, or me. Lucky for us that Griever likes to play with lasers, or else we might never have noticed." Laguna rubbed the side of his face absently, and Quistis noticed the faint lines down the side of his cheek, which could have come from a cat's claws. "We managed to get out of the line of sight and make a run for it, but still." He glanced at Ellone, who looked down at her hands in her lap. "That one was too close."

"When was this?" Quistis asked; Squall had only mentioned two assassination attempts, and he hadn't mentioned Ellone at all...

"Last night," Kiros said. "And it was different. Different room, different kind of gun. Based on the bullets we found, it wasn't even a real sniper rifle, just some generic back-alley piece of crap with a laser scope attached. Even if they'd gotten a good shot in, it might not have worked."

Irvine set down his fork. "You think somebody knew we were comin'? Tried to get in one last hit before SeeD showed up?"

Kiros shrugged. "Could be. We haven't exactly been shy about this particular contract. Laguna's supporters have been demanding for a long time that he take an actual bodyguard. When we announced we'd hired SeeD for the job, it helped calm down that entire faction. It's not exactly a secret." He spread his hands.

Quistis examined the map of the Presidential Palace, working things out in her mind. "How's security around here?" she asked.

"Much better now," Kiros said with a snort. "We didn't really have any reason to change anything, before, but believe me, we're patching up the holes now." Across the room, Ward nodded vigorously, thumping a fist to his chest in an obvious gesture of pride.

"I can't even go outside anymore without a guard or two," Laguna said mournfully.

Quistis tactfully said nothing, chewing on her lip instead of speaking. Irvine glanced at her, clearly surprised at her self-restraint, and then said cautiously: "So how do we fit in?"

"It's up to you," Kiros said. "Whatever you think is best. We hired SeeD for their guidance as well as their skill, y'know."

"Right." Quistis looked at Laguna. "I think the best place for us to start is simply by gathering more information. We'll spend a week following Laguna -- getting used to his habits and his schedule, that kind of thing. From there, we should have a much better idea of where the holes are, and which ones can be plugged by Estharian soldiers."

"Hmm." Laguna twisted his lips into an awkward shape. "And what about the, uh, the second part of the mission?"

Quistis tapped her finger to her lips, thinking. "That's not the kind of thing we can move on right away," she said slowly. "Especially if we haven't secured your safety yet. If we make a bold move, we could send any actual terrorists into hiding. Once we have the safety net in place, Irvine and I can split up and start looking into the political side. We'll probably need another briefing on that." She glanced at Irvine, questioning.

Irvine nodded in approval. "We gotta know what we're looking for before we start looking."

Laguna sighed. "So I'm stuck doing boring stuff for now, then, huh?"

Quistis shook her head. "Quite the contrary. What we want is for you to stick to your _normal_ schedule, so that we can figure out the best way to protect you with the least disruption to your daily responsibilities."

"It does, however, mean that you can't run off doing dumbshit stuff for a while now," Kiros warned. Laguna had the good grace to look chastized, at least.

Quistis covered her laugh with her fingertips. "At least until we get some basics in place, sir."

Laguna smiled at her. "It's cool. Alright, are you two done? Let's go play _Get Lost in the Corridor_. It's the only way to learn your way around this place."

Irvine glanced at Quistis; they both shrugged, simultaneously, and stood up.


	4. Chapter 4: You Never Know Until You Go

- - -

_because you never know, you never know / you never know until you go _

- - -

Kiros found Laguna standing outside the door to the guest suite they'd set up for Quistis and Irvine, staring at the doorknob in the particular, peculiar way that meant he was seeing something else entirely.

"Laguna," Kiros said gently, "you're being creepy again."

Laguna looked up, sharply, and Kiros was a little surprised at the haunted look in his eyes. But then Laguna shook his head, and smiled a bit, wryly.

"I still wish he had come," he said.

Kiros bit his lip. "You know Squall's too busy," he began.

Laguna's shoulders sagged. "Yeah, I get it. He's doing the same thing to me that I did to him." He turned away from the door a little, as if heading to his own room for the night.

"Laguna," Kiros said, "what are you talking about?"

-

"I'm talking about this room," Quistis repeated, a little louder. "Don't you think it's a little... much?"

Irvine, somewhere around the corner, continued to ignore her. Quistis heard the sound of a door opening, and then Irvine's hoot of delight: "Holy hell, Quisty, there's a freaking _hot tub_ in here! Thank you, Squall, I have died and found _heaven in Esthar._"

Quistis sighed and rubbed at her temples briefly. "We certainly don't need this much space. What are we going to do with all those bedrooms?"

Irvine stuck his head out around the door-frame, waggling his eyebrows. "Do you really need to ask, darlin'?"

Quistis threw a pillow at him. It wasn't exactly a loss; she had about a dozen more, lying artistically on the long low cushion she'd chosen as her bed. Each bedroom -- the suite had about six -- was arranged and decorated differently, according to some sort of ancient sleeping custom. Irvine had immediately claimed a room he'd promptly renamed the "Love Suite", a wide bed with silky sheets and a padded headboard. Quistis had been drawn to the low round sleeping mattress in the Shumi style, mostly for its simplicity -- although the pillows ruined that somewhat. Pillows, however, could be moved; or, she noted happily, thrown.

"I'm keeping that," Irvine said, grabbing the pillow and tossing it in the general direction of his room. "The Love Suite needs a couple more pillows."

She stood up, in pursuit of her wayward pillow. "Irvine, you realize we have to security check this place _in its entirety._ Do you really want to come home from a long day of trailing Laguna and have to check under every bed and in every closet before we can have a conversation?"

"Quistis," Irvine said with a broad grin, "it is so, so, _so_ worth it."

"Fine." She groaned. "I'll start the bug scan. _You_ can clear all the windows."

"Bug scan?" Irvine glanced at her, curious. "Do you really think Laguna'd bug this room?"

-

"Of course I think so," Laguna said, frowning at his bowl of ice cream. "He's trying to teach me a lesson, see? 'Here's what happens when you pick work over your family, dad. Isn't it an awesome feeling? _You total jackass._' I can hear him thinking it from here." He reached for the jar of fudge and liberally poured another swirl into his bowl. _When in doubt,_ Laguna thought, _ice cream heals all wounds._

Kiros made the face that meant he was trying hard to not roll his eyes. "Laguna," his friend said. "What have I told you about drawing conclusions from other people's actions without any real evidence?"

Laguna paused in thought, spoon still in his mouth. "It makes an ass out of you and me?" he tried, around a mouthful of ice cream.

Kiros paused -- then shrugged. "Close enough. You have no _idea_ what Squall's thinking. Don't interpret his actions like that. It's not fair to him or to you."

Laguna pointed his spoon at Kiros; ice cream dripped haphazardly on the table. "He's my kid, Kiros. I would bet I know exactly what he's thinking."

"Really." Now Kiros _did_ roll his eyes. "And what's that?"

-

"I have no idea," Quistis admitted. "Do you?"

"Nope." Irvine leaned forward. "But I'm pushing it."

"Irvine--" Quistis snapped, but it was too late. For a moment, nothing happened -- and then there was a grating sound, and it was suddenly raining inside the glass-walled chamber.

Not raining, Irvine realized belatedly, as he looked upwards to see the openings in the bright-blue tiles, equipped with a series of nozzles. Steam rose from the floor.

He looked at Quistis, soaking wet; she lifted a hand to push her sopping bangs out of her face, staring at him. After a few _really_ tense seconds, she -- chuckled. Irvine breathed a sigh of relief; she started laughing, in earnest. Irvine glanced around frantically, looking for any kind of off button, as Quistis Trepe howled in laughter and the fancy multi-tiered jets sprayed warm, fresh-scented water down on them both.

Finally, when he'd figured out how to turn off the shower, and they'd both stepped out into the bathroom, she caught her breath and asked him: "Does Laguna honestly expect all of his guests to take their showers in a stall made of _glass?_"

-

"No way," Kiros said.

Laguna looked up at him in alarm, and Kiros took the opportunity to close the carton of ice cream before Laguna ate himself sick. Again. "Have you ever considered," he said slowly, watching Laguna's face, "that this is actually a good thing?"

"How is it a good thing?" Laguna spread his arms, angrily. "I made him a blatant invitation and he just ignored it."

"Maybe," Kiros said, deliberately, "he's making the same mistake you did."

Laguna froze, his mouth open, and Kiros pressed his advantage. "Squall's doing the same thing you did after Adel: letting his responsibilities dictate who he is. How can he criticize you for it when he's guilty of the same thing?"

"Easily," Laguna muttered. Then his face brightened. "No, you're right. It gives me some leverage the next time we argue!"

Kiros shook his head. "No, Laguna, it gives you a way to approach him. It gives Squall a chance to think about it -- about the situation, and how easy it is to let other people tell you what to do. _Even_ if he's doing it deliberately," he added, soothingly, as Laguna's eyes strayed towards the carton of ice cream again. Ward, always the silent watcher, picked it up and headed back towards the fridge in Laguna's kitchenette.

Laguna bit his lip. "But what if he doesn't take it that way?"

-

"Don't be ridiculous." Quistis backed up, bumping her head on the table. She hissed, and ducked lower to scoot out backwards. "Now try it."

A happy beep told her that she'd fixed the problem with the plug. "Everything's loading a-o-k," Irvine said, grinning down at her.

"Everything except my head," she grumbled, carefully standing and brushing invisible lint from her skirt while she waited for her scalp to stop throbbing. Eventually she headed over to stand behind Irvine, watching over his shoulder while the screen loaded, adding more and more detail with each scan of their surroundings.

"Now that's odd," Quistis murmured. She glanced at Irvine. "It looks like you were right. Laguna hasn't bugged anything in this room -- or, at least, nothing that our scanner can pick up."

"Sweet." Irvine glanced up at her. "Does this mean we can have a slumber party and tell each other our deepest, darkest secrets? I'll go first: I've always wanted to make out with a Garden Instructor in a posh Estharian hotel room designed to sleep a family of moombas. Your turn." He gave her an innocent smile, although the corners of his mouth twitched.

Quistis snorted. "Here's a secret: I occasionally harbor a secret desire to stuff pillows into your mouth until you can't talk any more."

"Oh," Irvine said with a nod, "so that's why you took the room with eight hundred pillows in it."

"Between you and Laguna, I have a feeling I'll need all eight hundred," Quistis mused. Something on the screen caught her eye, and she leaned in, tapping a key to pause the scan so that she could zoom in. "Wait -- is that...?"

-

"It is not." Laguna crossed his arms defiantly.

Kiros said nothing.

Laguna twitched. He uncrossed his arms, and then crossed them again. Finally, he said, "Okay, so it's a little stupid."

Kiros nodded.

"Alright." Laguna turned. "I'll disconnect the feed."

"I approve," Kiros said. "That's just rude, Laguna."

Laguna blushed. "I know," he said, in a low voice, "but I wanted to hear what Squall said about me. There's... there's no point, now. I'll go turn it off."

-

"Funny," Irvine said, reloading the screen for the fourth time. "It's not finding anything, now."

Quistis sighed. "Maybe it was just a blip. We can check again tomorrow. For now, I'm turning in. Good night."

"Have fun in Pillowland," Irvine called after her. "I'll be in the Love Suite if you get lonely."

A pillow flew past his head and hit the wall behind him.

- - -

_Two chapters until all hell breaks loose – I mean, what? Please review. Reviewers get a night in the bedroom of their choice._


End file.
